


To See it Clearly

by lha



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Episode Addition, Gen, Injury, Pain, S1:E4 - The Butcher's Knife Cares Not for the Lamb's Cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12407214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lha/pseuds/lha
Summary: My first foray into Discovery!  A little episode addition for ep 4 (although there are some indirect SPOILERS for episode 5 as well)“At your pleasure Captain,” his first officer said with a gesture of his elongated arm.  Lorca waited a moment before giving the order;“Go.”  Detmer engaged the drive, the deck shuddered beneath them and a fraction of a moment later they arrived.  He looked away from the window on instinct but even then it was too late, the world had gone white and the pain was enough to take his breath away.





	To See it Clearly

Gabriel Lorca blinked purposefully and waited for his treatment to kick in before tucking the ocular treatment device back into a pocket and heading for the bridge. This could be the truest test yet of Discovery and her crew and he wanted to see it clearly.

“Engineering?” Commander Saru requested.

“Spore drive is online. Plot destination for Corvan II”

“At your pleasure Captain,” his first officer said with a gesture of his elongated arm. Lorca waited a moment before giving the order;

“Go.” Detmer engaged the drive, the deck shuddered beneath them and a fraction of a moment later they arrived. He looked away from the window on instinct but even then it was too late, the world had gone white and the pain was enough to take his breath away. 

“The Sensors indicate, external temp of … they went off line it’s too hot,” Saru reported as Gabriel swallowed convulsively against the accompanying nausea. 

“That is not Corvan II” he managed to bark.

“No Sir, it is not,” Saru agreed.

“We’re stuck in the gravity well of an O-type star, collision is imminent,” Detmer reported from conn.

“Collision is not an option,” Lorca snapped. “Shields up, full reverse. Wrong off ramp Lieutenant Stamets!”

“My nav buffer overloaded I couldn’t hold…” the Lieutenant began.

“Rear thrusters engaging…” The deck plates were groaning with the effort and the whole ship was vibrating beneath them. It was doing nothing to alleviate Lorca’s symptoms and he gripped the edge of the nearest console, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“We are... clear of the gravitational well,” Saru reported after what felt like an age.

“Re-engage warp drive. Get us the hell out of dodge, Mr Saru,” he instructed, turning his head in vaguely the right direction, blinking while he waited for the Kelpian to come into focus. 

“Aye aye Captain,” came the crisp response. The white-out of his vision had begun to recede into spots now, and it was just enough to allow Gabriel to make out the other man. The relief at finding his first officer was engrossed in his displays rather than looking at him with a quizzical head tilt was profound.

“Lieutenant Stamets?” he asked, but there was only silence over the comm link in reply. “Where the hell is Lieutenant Stamets?” he demanded.

“The Lieutenant is being taken to sickbay,” the young Ensign manning ops reported.

“Is he conscious?” Lorca asked quietly blinking carefully as the white spots continued to dance before his eyes.

“Yes,” came the slightly hesitant response.

“Commander Saru, you have the bridge.”

Once the door to the lift closed behind him, Lorca closed his eyes again and reached out blindly for the control panel and identified the lighting control quickly and from practice. Falling back against the wall he rested there, panting quietly in the near dark. Even with only the lowest level of light and his eyelids firmly closed, it felt like someone had poured acid along his optic nerves and that it was eating away at his brain. He must have stayed there for several minutes before he managed to convince himself to reach into his jacket for his ocular treatment unit. Forcing open his right eye, he raised the device and depressed the switch but nothing happened. In a fit of pique, Gabriel threw the damned thing at the far side of the lift where he heard it bounce off the wall and fall to the floor and pressed the heels of his hands deeply into the sockets of his eyes. The time restricted activation had been introduced by his CMO after he’d last been cornered for an exam. Apparently, he needed to consult a professional if the usual treatment was ceasing to be effective, but it was all beside the point. Lowering his hands, he breathed deeply and ruthlessly pushed the pain aside, tamped it down and used it to fuel his anger. After several more breaths he opened his eyes once more and tapped the control to gradually increase the lighting level in the lift. This done, he selected his deck and started his journey. 

“How’s the patient?” Lorca asked, striding purposefully into sickbay. Predictably what followed was Stamets and Culber’s unique brand of love and affection and he allowed them to snipe at each other for a moment while he breathed through another flurry of white dots and another stab of pain at the unnaturally white light.

“Gentlemen,” he cut in after a moment, “every starship in the galaxy, whether Klingon or Federation runs on dilithium crystals. If we can’t protect Corvan II then the war is over. So doctor, can you cure the Lieutenant’s inability to get us where we need to go?”

“I’ve told you Captain, that time is an essential component of good science.”

“Discovery is no longer a science vessel….” he retorted and yet another familiar argument was given another airing they didn’t have time for.

“Are we done here?” Stamets asked Culber, quite blatantly snubbing his commanding officer.

“You still have blood on your face…” Culber pointed out.

“... and on your hands. Get back to work Lieutenant,” Lorca called over his shoulder, grimacing at the sound of his own voice reverberating around his skull. “Computer, open ship wide hail. Play the audio from Corvan II.” He closed his eyes as the transmission began.

“Captain?” The tone of Culber’s voice screamed that this was the prelude to a conversation that Lorca really didn’t want to have. He peeled his eyes open, only to squint at the other man. “Are you in pain?” he asked and Lorca simply raised an eyebrow. “More pain than usual?” he restated.

“I’m fine,” he growled, releasing a carefully controlled breath.

“You could have fooled me,” the doctor muttered, but before he could say any more the computer interrupted;

“Emergency transport in progress.”

The Captain had known that Landry was in a bad way as soon as she’d materialised and so he’d been able to lock down his emotions ahead of the announcement from the medic. 

“Don’t let her death be for nothing,” he told Burnam, and that was the crux of it he thought. The last thing he wanted was for the losses that they had already incurred to be for nothing. The souls whom he had sacrificed. The deaths for which he personally was responsible. One of the medics moved past him with a polished tray, the angle shifting just at the wrong moment to reflect the ceiling light up in a concentrated beam directly into his face. It was past in an instant but nonetheless, he had to bite the inside of his cheek in order not to cry out. 

“Enough!” Culbert said forcefully, taking hold of Lorca’s upper arm and steering him toward a bio bed. He was about to object. He would have, but the fact that the doctor lowered the lighting before he even reached for his tricorder was somehow enough to stop the protest in it’s tracks. There was time now he supposed, if not long, and he knew that of all his medical staff this particular doctor would not subject him to an unnecessary lecture about treatment plans. The quiet beeping of the scanner seemed an intrusion too far and came with a renewal in the pain that seemed entirely disproportionate. Gabriel blinked at the bowl Culbert handed at him for a moment before he realised that he was about to be sick. 

Throughout the episode, the doctor said nothing but when the heaving eventually stopped, he offered him a cup of water. Gabriel rinsed his mouth out and spat the liquid into the bowl. 

“I really ought to sedate you so that I can…”

“No,” the Captain said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Well in that case,” the doctor replied, sounding unimpressed but equally unsurprised. He pressed a canister into Lorca’s neck, and there was a gentle hiss as the medication entered his bloodstream. “That should help you through the worst of the acute episode.”

“Thank you as always doctor,” he said dryly, easing himself off the edge of the bed.

“Make sure you drink plenty of fluids and come back and see me in the morning,” the other man called at him as Lorca made his way out the door but he made no acknowledgement of it. His thoughts were already elsewhere, he would see this done if it was the last thing he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Would love to hear your thoughts here, or find me over on twitter @LHA_again  
> Lx


End file.
